


the monsters have had a taste

by ethclectic



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4420733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethclectic/pseuds/ethclectic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>of her blood so she just fuels it faster and faster with the stench of her guilt</p>
            </blockquote>





	the monsters have had a taste

**Author's Note:**

> second fic attempt
> 
> ok so this is supER SHORT but to justify myself, this is elsa we're talking about i mean right
> 
> i really love this pairing bc its just so there and practically canon and dysfunctional and angsty and whatnot
> 
> ok so do leave a comment or note bc i'm open to anything

the monsters had a taste of her blood

Okay so thing is, Anna was there, and then suddenly she wasn't. And it confuses Elsa so much, the way time slips and slides around her, moments sneaking by when she takes too long to blink.

It's unsettling, seeing wrinkles tugging back at her face, youthfulness waning as she enters the autumns of her life. Anna is young as ever, stone cold and unmoving. She supposes that they are the same in that sense.

Eyes unholy the way they glazed over, dull with emotion and, this is the part where Elsa's heart constricts in a way it shouldn't, Anna's eyes were as piercing as ever. Haunting her at night and leaving her drowning in the pools of bedsheets and hurtling air into her collapsing lungs. Sucking in breaths that don't satisfy her body as she remembers. And its the times like these where all Elsa can think about is the ice in her veins and the blood on her hands that she just can't wash off, so she curls into -

Hans as he hisses into her ear, his breath a coiling feline that plays symphonies that aren't genuine against her bare skin. He is wrapping his voice around her form, staccatos beating upon her skin, stripped down and expressive. She is up against a door and skyrocketing in pleasure, nails raking a trail down his back. He is hers and she does not deny carving and mapping out his skin. He groans and its loud and guttural and animalistic and all Elsa can think about is how it's reflected inside of her. It's routine by now, how they work out their issues with each other, and he's beautiful when she's usurped his power and his face is contorted beyond recognition and pleasure. His mouth just open and red raw and his eyes rolling in a rather unnatural way. She probably loves, if she can call it that, him the most when he is unhinged. Loves the ability she has to strip down the freckled expense of him and see the glorious, truer parts of him. She loves it because she knows how easily he can fall apart when she just -

stands still and the room is heavy with the stoic silences and the broken implications of all she's done. Anna stands alone and sad, and Elsa does not go closer than obligation because there is so much she can do to keep herself from falling apart as it is. Faltering in her attempts to keep it all t o g e t h e r, funny isn't it, Anna taunts, voice loud and jeering and beautiful. Her chest is already exploding in an multitude of emotions and it's getting hard to breathe. Her eyes are glassy and she knows, knows that she is simply a pretty doll dressed in equally pretty dresses who smiles smiles that do not reach her eyes. The room bears the brunt of her emotions in the form of icicles and sharp spikes. She does not look at Anna's face. She turns away because it's - 

not her fault, Hans says, his chest behind her a steady pillar. They are older now, no longer inexperienced young adults. They have children, out of necessity, and when they smile at her she cannot bring herself to return to them the same amount of love. At celebrations they are raucous and joyful, Hans looks at her, all calculating looks and devilish smirks and she is more okay than she's been in a while. But there is a shallowness to their relationship, dysfunctional as it is with an Anna shaped hole between them that they will not breach. She thinks of Anna with a pang in her heart and a inferno that burns, thinks of Hans slick and desperate. They are only aesthetically pleasing after all. At night she listens to his heartbeats and tries so so hard to love him but all she sees is -

stars because she has kissed him hard, biting down like the monster she is, the coppery tang sliding over their tongues. She is horrific and empowering. She is ferocious and untamed and something she is so very afraid of. Kisses him harder and harder as she pools her guilt and emotion into the swirling abyss of his soul. Blood is an odd thing, for the blood on her hands is too much to bear, too laden with meanings and a history she does not want to remember, so she closes her eyes and breathes. She thinks in the aftermath, maybe she should have, would have, could have just-

sits in a chair with bones that ache with a ferocity she never knew. As daisies bloom around her feet and children, hair coppers and blondes, tumble and fall in the garden. They play games that she feels are reflections of what she used to do, sing songs she think she's sung. The sky is bright and blue and welcoming, and Elsa knows she doesn't deserve this. Anna, she thinks, would have loved this. Anna, her mind thinks again. But Elsa is selfish, so she holds up her heart, tears her eyes away from a sky and smiles serenely at an old man next to her.

She lets her mind wander, just for a moment, and sees a ghost of a girl frolicking joyfully near the daisies. Clamps a hand over her aching heart and squeezes her eyes shut.

 

 

She did not see this but she knows. Before Anna was carved cold as ice. Before her limbs splayed out like a broken doll. 

Bright blue eyes are wide open, for a moment seeing everything, seeing nothing.

She turns away.

**Author's Note:**

> so that's it  
> do leave a comment or thought  
> i'll really appreciate it


End file.
